


On Ice

by p0cketw0tch



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Gen, Henry's Seven Drunken Nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3106928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p0cketw0tch/pseuds/p0cketw0tch





	On Ice

“Your beer, Ladies and Gentlemen.”

 

Jo Martinez looked up from lacing her skates to see Lucas dropping a box of Coors on the bench beside her with a proud grin. She had to admit, if only in the privacy of her own mind, a little bit adorable how eager he seemed to please, especially when Henry was around. Jo had had her doubts about the ME’s assistant when they had first met, but Lucas had proven to be loyal, if a bit odd. Perhaps a certain amount of weirdness was required for the job: as much as she liked Henry, he was definitely one of the weirdest people she had ever met. Jo glanced around to make she they hadn’t lost the ME in question on the trip between the bar and the skating rink. Considering how reluctant he was to even drink with his coworkers after hours, it was a miracle he’d agreed to this little adventure. Henry was still here, however, and had one skate on and was waving the other around as he told some story to Hanson.

 

Cautiously she stood and started thumping her way over to the rink where Dect. Scott and McCarthy from Robbery were already making slow circles on the ice, beer bottles in hand. Perhaps Jo was already a bit tipsy as the thought of six of New Yorks Finest drunk on ice was more amusing than worrying. But Lucas had assured them that he had full permission to use his friend’s rink while he was out of town and that no one else would be there. Lucas could be a bit impulsive, but he certainly wasn’t foolish risk Lt. Reece’s wrath by getting six of her employee’s arrested.

 

Besides, tonight was a night for celebration, not worries. They had saved a missing child today with the help of Scott and McCarthy. It wasn’t often that homicide got a victory like that. Ramped up as everyone was, Lucas suggestion to leave the bar for something more fun was completely welcome.

 

She paused at the entrance to the rink as Henry came to join her and then favored the doctor with a questioning look as Hanson rushed past her onto the ice looking green around the gills.

 

“I was just telling Detective Hanson about a particularly interesting man who came accross my examining table a few years back. The man had contracted gangrene through a rather nasty gash on his foot and foolishly died a slow death rather than contact a physician.” He handed her a beer bottle, looking rather pleased with himself, and Jo knew why. Henry had been eyeing the communal skates with distaste from the moment Lucas had handed them to him. Hanson probably hadn’t been able to resist teasing the Doctor over his snobbery.

 

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the time for revenge.”

 

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Henry replied, cautiously stepping onto the ice and throwing her an innocent expression. It melted into something smug as he pushed off “What’s a bit of mischief between friends.”

 

Three hours of laughter, challenges, and alcohol later, Jo hauled a weaving Henry into a cab after her.

“You are drunk, Henry Morgan. It’s a miracle you didn’t break your leg on that last bet.”

 

He blinked blurry for a second and then drew himself up as if to push away the intoxication through sheer force of will.

 

“Please, Detective. The day I can’t handle a simple triple jump is the day I give up the name Morgan.” He slumped again, leaning against her and smiling softly in fond memory. “My grandfather taught me how to skate on the pond behind his house. Every winter I’d practice, dreaming of the day I could run off to Scotland to join the Edinburgh Skating club. Father didn’t approve of the whimsy, of course, but Grandfather approved of the exercise so there was little he could do.”  
  


Jo smiled at the image Henry painted. “And did you ever do it?”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Run off to Scotland”

 

He looked at his hands for a moment before sighing and rubbing rubbing his chest. Right where his scar was she realized. He still hadn’t told her the story.

 

“I think that’s a tale for another day, if you have the patience.”

 

“I’ll be there.”  Only Henry would be just as articulate and nearly as tight lipped while completely sloshed. There was no tension in the cab, however, only a companionable air that she filled with the story of her six year old aspirations of being a trapeze artist

 

 


End file.
